The ancient Greeks used quantitative easing

What can they teach us?

Quantitative easing is fast becoming common parlance given the Bank of England’s £375bn programme, so it was with enjoyment that I recently read up on some of the history of QE in Schroders’s Dialogue newsletter.

Paraphrasing Philip Coggan at the Secular Market Forum, the article clarified that QE is, despite the media hysteria, nothing new. "2,500 years ago Dionysius of Syracuse called in all coins from his populace on pain of death, re-stamped all the one drachma coins as two drachma, returned the face value of all the money he had seized to his people and used the remainder to pay off his debts."

Startling as the stunt may have been, it gave future leaders inspiration. "Following the reign of Louis XIV at the start of the 18th century," the article runs, "the French monarchy was essentially bankrupt and so turned to a Scottish mathematician, gambler and economist called John Law to come up with a way of paying off the huge debts.

"He did this through a scheme that involved the creation of a joint-stock company, the Compagnie d’Occident, to exploit France’s colonial possessions, and by creating extra money with which to buy shares in the company and keep their value rising." Little surprise that "the scheme became one of the greatest bubbles in history and failed."

So where does the historic tale of woe leave the West?  According to Coggan, author of Paper Promises: Money, Debt and the New World Order, (which won a Spear's Book Award last year) facing the unholy trinity of inflate, stagnate or default.

"Japan has taken the stagnate option over the past 20 years and remains a prosperous place," the article says. "But importantly, its debt is internal whereas Europe’s debt is cross border so creditors will tend to force change rather than kicking the can down the road.

"Due to the fixed exchange rate system, Europe also cannot inflate or devalue, which means default is the only viable option of the three."

Alarming stuff – so let’s hope that Coggan’s history is better than his predicting.

This article originally appeared in Spear's magazine. Read more from Freddy Barker.

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Cabinet audit: what does the appointment of Andrea Leadsom as Environment Secretary mean for policy?

The political and policy-based implications of the new Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs.

A little over a week into Andrea Leadsom’s new role as Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (Defra), and senior industry figures are already questioning her credentials. A growing list of campaigners have called for her resignation, and even the Cabinet Office implied that her department's responsibilities will be downgraded.

So far, so bad.

The appointment would appear to be something of a consolation prize, coming just days after Leadsom pulled out of the Conservative leadership race and allowed Theresa May to enter No 10 unopposed.

Yet while Leadsom may have been able to twist the truth on her CV in the City, no amount of tampering will improve the agriculture-related side to her record: one barely exists. In fact, recent statements made on the subject have only added to her reputation for vacuous opinion: “It would make so much more sense if those with the big fields do the sheep, and those with the hill farms do the butterflies,” she told an audience assembled for a referendum debate. No matter the livelihoods of thousands of the UK’s hilltop sheep farmers, then? No need for butterflies outside of national parks?

Normally such a lack of experience is unsurprising. The department has gained a reputation as something of a ministerial backwater; a useful place to send problematic colleagues for some sobering time-out.

But these are not normal times.

As Brexit negotiations unfold, Defra will be central to establishing new, domestic policies for UK food and farming; sectors worth around £108bn to the economy and responsible for employing one in eight of the population.

In this context, Leadsom’s appointment seems, at best, a misguided attempt to make the architects of Brexit either live up to their promises or be seen to fail in the attempt.

At worst, May might actually think she is a good fit for the job. Leadsom’s one, water-tight credential – her commitment to opposing restraints on industry – certainly has its upsides for a Prime Minister in need of an alternative to the EU’s Common Agricultural Policy (CAP); a policy responsible for around 40 per cent the entire EU budget.

Why not leave such a daunting task in the hands of someone with an instinct for “abolishing” subsidies  thus freeing up money to spend elsewhere?

As with most things to do with the EU, CAP has some major cons and some equally compelling pros. Take the fact that 80 per cent of CAP aid is paid out to the richest 25 per cent of farmers (most of whom are either landed gentry or vast, industrialised, mega-farmers). But then offset this against the provision of vital lifelines for some of the UK’s most conscientious, local and insecure of food producers.

The NFU told the New Statesman that there are many issues in need of urgent attention; from an improved Basic Payment Scheme, to guarantees for agri-environment funding, and a commitment to the 25-year TB eradication strategy. But that they also hope, above all, “that Mrs Leadsom will champion British food and farming. Our industry has a great story to tell”.

The construction of a new domestic agricultural policy is a once-in-a-generation opportunity for Britain to truly decide where its priorities for food and environment lie, as well as to which kind of farmers (as well as which countries) it wants to delegate their delivery.

In the context of so much uncertainty and such great opportunity, Leadsom has a tough job ahead of her. And no amount of “speaking as a mother” will change that.

India Bourke is the New Statesman's editorial assistant.